Defying
by Meany
Summary: PostOotP. After the godfather's death and learning of the prophecy Harry starts his own path, leaving past life behind. Independant!Harry, Slash, New School
1. Breakout

**Disclaimer:** Do not own it.

**Rating: **R for language and mild sexual context. May be NC-17 in later chapters.

**AN:** First of all, I must apologize for my clumsy language. Hope, it will get better as the story goes. Secondly, I'd like to point out that I owe a plot and idea to Miranda Flairgold. Thanks for the inspiration.

* * *

**Chapter 1. The Breakout**

This summer the Dursleys managed to surprise their nephew and behaved themselves. Of course, they didn't turn out suddenly all loving and caring, but Harry was quite content with being ignored. It meant he was left to his own devices. He also could eat whenever he want provided that he cooked for himself, get to keep his belongings in his bedroom and do whatever he wanted in the confines of his small room. Probably, they were seriously terrified by the welcoming committee at Kings Cross Station, and their self-preservation instincts kicked in.

The newly found freedom was deeply welcome. It was something, which he was denied every summer. He was either under the dictatorship of his dear relatives or the patronizing of the slightly annoying friends and Dumbledore.

Speaking of the Headmaster… If Dumbledore knew about the prophecy all along, then why did he not make any move to train him, to prepare him for his fate? From how the things looked right now, he will surely die in the prophesized standoff. Half a century of Voldemort's knowledge and experience against his own unimpressive academic attempts? He wouldn't bet on himself. Granted he was quick on his feet and abnormally lucky, but luck has to run out sooner or later. He was not even close to the evil git's level. He, grudgingly, even admired the brilliant if not a little insane mind of Tom Riddle. The feel of his enemy's magic was thick and suffocating, like a hurricane in the sandy desert. No matter how hard he tried to forget, it was firmly etched in his memories, since the battle in the Ministry.

But it didn't mean that he was prepared to roll over and die, or try to take out the Git on a lone suicide mission. No, the teen planned to disappear for the time being and improve his chances. He wouldn't deny his destiny; he just wasn't ready yet.

Somehow the green-eyed boy didn't think, Dumbledore would agree with his plans. Harry began to realize that in the old man's eyes, he was merely a pawn, a destined saviour, a symbol of light and hope. He was something to show off to the allies, frighten the enemies and be used as an ultimate weapon. Nothing more, nothing less.

Voldemort was on the rise again, and the disappearance of such a precious icon from the public's eye would create chaos and panic in the wizarding world. Harry perfectly understood that but sometime during the fifth year he just stopped caring. Same world deemed him insane, delusional and dangerous. He didn't owe them a thing. Did they even deserve to be saved? Weaklings.

Yes, Harry Potter was feeling extremely selfish and pissed off. Some of it might have been written off as teenage angst, but the larger part was cold and calculative anger.

In the short weeks from his arrival to the Dursley's, he had gone from placing all the faults of the world on his not so broad shoulders to blaming the laughable Order, incompetent Ministry, meddling Dumbledore and, lastly, Voldemort and his merry band of followers. He refrained, however, from taking his anger out on the school peers. They were still just children, and though he was not given a chance to be a child himself, he would not be jealous towards them. Nope, he would not. They just were a tinny-winny bit irritating at times. Hell, he was frustrated with himself, when he sometimes tried to copy that naive and light behaviour, which only landed him in a nasty mess. It was long past time he shed the assumed role. With Sirius dead, his hope for childhood, which was already wavering, was completely lost.

Harry came out of his funk with several conclusions: first, he didn't trust Dumbledore, as the old coot was playing his own game and was not willing to fill the boy-who-lived in on the rules, and said boy wasn't willing to be a mindless pawn anymore. Harry even questioned the validity of the prophecy.

Second, he wouldn't really miss anyone if he decided to break ties. The fairy-tale friendship of the Golden Trio had outgrown itself. Boy, was he tired of Hermione's bossiness and close-minded Ron. Maybe later on their friendship will be reestablished. Of course it will never be the same but change could not always be bad, right? He himself will never be the same, not after losing Sirius and watching Cedric's body crumble on the graveyard's ground. Perhaps, he will miss Remus, as the last link to his parents. But despite the amiable relationship, they were always quite distant.

Harry Potter decided to break free.

Better said than done. Firstly, he had to trick the Order guards and leave the Dursleys; secondly, he had to disguise himself. Thirdly, he had to inquire about his finances, yada, yada... And the last but not the least, he had to decide where to hide and continue his studies at the same time. Durmstrang did not sound that bad, but it has close connections with Britain, as did Beauxbatons. Harry wasn't aware of any other schools, but he was sure that they existed. Come to think of it, under the gentle guidance of Headmaster and the general shitty circumstances of his life, he never found neither will nor time to study the wizarding customs and policies. Now he wanted to curse himself for his own stupidity.

Harry sighed. He was now sitting on the wide windowsill trying to reread his third-year potions textbook. So far he had revised his DADA material and written down all the useful information into a journal, and got on to potions. They actually were not that hard to understand if he paid at least half-mind to the textbook. Snape was not an effective teacher. Hell, he wasn't even a decent one.

Harry cast a glance towards the unofficial guard point across the street. As usual someone was stationed there under the disillusionment charm. According to the noises of stumbling and the sound of crashing dustbins, it was Tonks. The teen rolled his eyes at her clumsiness.

Harry glanced at the beaten clock. Nearly 8 p.m. – the change of guard. Who would it be today? So far only Tonks, Remus, Snape, Jones, and Shackelbolt took turns.

With a loud pop another person appeared. He did not even try to be discreet, no invisibility whatsoever. Tonks let out a frustrated cry "Fletcher!" and quickly disillusioned the man. They immediately started arguing about something. All the while Harry tried hard not to jump around and do a victory dance. Here comes his chance!

Tonks left, and Harry deliberately yawning departed the windowsill. Though his supposed acting skills were probably lost on the drunkard. He turned the lights on and quietly packed the trunk in the back of the room. He decided to leave behind his DADA books as he practically memorized them. Even so, the trunk was heavy.

Harry sighed and tossed aside Dudley's clothes, Hogwarts' uniform, _Quidditch Through Ages_, almost empty potions kit, and some other random stuff. He also decided to leave the owl's cage behind. Hedwig was now on the way to Ron and Hermione with some pointless letters and will find him later. He finally switched off the lights and tucked a wand in the jeans' pocket. He must definitely buy a new wand holster instead of the lost one. With the invisibility cloak atop the trunk Harry began waiting.

Around 10 p.m. the Dursleys, as the good and righteous family they were, left for bed. Harry waited for another 10 minutes and checked on Dung. Well, the guy seemed to be soundly asleep; he could hear his snoring even from the house. He could not fathom how the Order could leave him on guard duty after what happened last year.

The teen left a note on the kitchen table for the Dursleys which explained that he would be gone for a couple of days, possibly longer, and to show this note to anyone asking about him.

Harry found a key in his uncle's jacket, opened the door and put it back into the pocket.

Hiding under the shimmering cloth of his father's cloak, he left Privet Drive. Thank god for small miracles like that of Mundungus Fletcher.

* * *

The teen managed to get on the last bus to the train station and then for the night train to London. The timing was rather close but luck was still on his side.

Now Harry was standing in a rather empty train station hall in the middle of the night, which was frankly speaking, not the best place for lone youngsters. Well, now he can try to catch a cab to the muggle hotel named Winston nearby the Leaky Cauldron. He checked it out on the internet on Dudley's computer, when the Dursleys were on their monthly visit to Aunt Marge. The price was ranging from 20 to 120 pounds per night but he will manage that. He had about 1,5 thousand pounds with him. Not bad for a teenager. Not bad at all.

He had barely exited the station and headed to the cab line when his strategic thoughts were interrupted by not so nice personalities - three guys in the middle of their twenties with the bad guy outlook.

"Hey, kiddo, where're you going?"

'Ok, Harry, stay calm, remember - no magic or the great plan of escape from home prison will be fucked up from the start.'

"You wanted something?"

The boss of the gang produced a sickly grin.

"Why, of course. How 'bout some money you surely have?"

Harry tried to sound bored and angry:

"Do I look like I have a whole trunk of money?" For the first time in his life he thanked the Dursleys for the elephant clothes and shabby trunk.

The guys now _really_ looked at their prey.

"Maybe not," the man had to agree. "Anyway, watcha doing in the middle of the night in this part of town?"

"Got kicked out. My _dear_ relatives have money problems and decided that they cannot afford me under their roof anymore."

Now the brown eyes of the speaker were sparkling with a calculating glint.

"Say... Where are you heading now?"

"Charing Cross Road. My mum's friend lives there. I hoped to stay with her for a couple of days, and then find work and accommodation. At least look for it."

"Hm-m... Alright, kiddo. We can take you there."

"I don't want to be a bother..."

"Cut the crap. I ain't doing it out of the goodness of my heart. I have a job offer for you."

"Oh?"

The guy didn't look like a businessman.

"With your bookish-boy look you could become a good dealer, not so suspicious. And we are currently missing one of the crew."

"Oh," answered Harry intelligently. "What happened to the other one?"

"Prison happened."

"Hm-m..."

"Just think about it. If you won't find any other job to your liking then call this number. I am Satt."

"Sure," Harry accepted the small piece of paper not really knowing what else to do.

"Steve, fetch a car."

"Just a sec," came the reply.

In five minutes Steve arrived on a nice brand-new SUV. Harry suspected they did not own that car. He voiced his opinion.

"Nice catch."

Satt heartily laughed and patted him on the back.

"Quick learner, aren't you, kiddo? Hope, you'll join us."

"I'll think about it."

"Sure you will."

When they neared their destination Harry started frantically looking for any porch without the security system.

"There!" He pointed at an old-looking five-storey house.

"You sure, kiddo? The place looks really shabby."

The boy just shrugged. "Whatever. I won't stay there for long." Actually he wasn't planning to stay there for more than ten minutes. Just to wait till the gang will be gone.

" 'K. What's your name, kiddo?"

"Bolt."

"As in Bald, without hair? Surely you do not look like it..."

"No, Bolt, as in lightning bolt. See?"

Satt stared for some time at the exposed scar.

"Nice. How did you get it?"

Harry laughed. Such carefree attitude was certainly refreshing.

"Oh. Nothing special, I fell on a wooden board. Now I always look where I step."

"Sure you do," grinned Satt. "Must have hurt like a bitch".

"Yeah. Good that I am not afraid of blood." Well, he wasn't, really.

"Yeah, good." Satt grinned again, friendly if a little bit maliciously. "Call when you decide then."

"Alright, see ya, guys, thanks for driving me here."

"No pro'."

* * *

Finally! Harry closed the door behind him and watched through the small window as the steel-blue car had disappeared from view. Not that the guys were that bad... Ok, so they were bad, but rather friendly amongst themselves and actually seemed to accept him in their circle, and Harry felt illogically uneasy when lying to them.

Suddenly the dull light in the hall went off.

"What do we have here?"

Harry jumped high in the air and turned towards the newcomer. Not that he could see a lot in the dark, only the vague shape of a human.

"Bloody Hell! Nothing. I am already leaving, sorry!" He almost reached the doorknob.

"Not so fast."

Harry did not quite understand what happened. One moment he was opening the door, the second he was thrown against the wall with the stranger's hand choking his throat.

"Stop..." he managed to croak.

The hand weakened its grasp and instead started caressing the abused flesh.

"Hm-m… Such smooth moonlike skin... Exquisite." whispered the man. "Now… Behave yourself. Good little pets do not struggle..."

At first Harry was just frozen from the implications of the little speech. When the meaning sank in, he grabbed the man's hand and tried to throw it away.

"Let me go, wanker!"

The hand hadn't moved an inch. It felt as though its muscles were made of steel. Fuck, fuck, fuck... He was in real and waist-deep shit.

"Tsk-tsk. It looks like a pet needs some training. That would be... entertaining to break you."

'What is it with me?' silently cursed Harry. 'Do I have a signboard on my forehead "Looking for trouble"? Oh, yeah, actually I do,' he admitted remembering his scar.

"We can even start now. A kiss, and your task is to answer it."

Harry was now officially bewildered and scared. So... the situation is even worse than he thought. His infamous bad luck led him straight into the hands of the fucking pervert who was not so straight. Shit…

The pervert didn't wait for Harry's frustrated brain cells to gather themselves together and proceeded in his actions. He pressed his lips against the boy's and softly kissed him.

"Open."

At that moment Harry finally decided on his future actions. He needed a distraction and he himself will provide it. He totally relaxed and sighing parted his lips. The eager tongue darted inside his mouth searching and exploring. The boy slowly started answering under the other's guiding. Accidentally his tongue brushed against something sharp, and he felt the metallic taste of blood. The perpetrator moaned and lost himself in the kiss not really caring if the boy answered or not. Now!

Harry flawlessly performed the universal feat against rapists. With all the strength he could master he kneed the manhood of the fucker. The latter doubled. The teen quickly grabbed his trunk and dashed outside. However, he didn't get very far as he ran into a wall. Well, maybe, not a wall.

"Now-now, does the birdy think it can fly away like that? I am not ready to lose the wizard blood source just yet…"

The man that Harry was now lying on was dressed in dark jeans and t-shirt, really nothing worth of mentioning but his face... Well, the skin was snow-white, the silver eyes bloodshot with a maniacal gleam in them and... The eyeteeth were very long and pointy.

"Shit!" A vampire! He is doomed. Now he will have to use magic. Or...

"HE-ELP!" Harry yelled on the top of his lungs capacity. The night walkers did not seem even to hear him let alone help.

The vampire laughed. "They cannot see or hear us. Vampyr magic. What do they teach you in your defense classes?"

Harry scowled. He himself also thought that the ministry program was lenient. Here was another reason to continue education elsewhere.

He jumped from the vampire. Well... Tried to jump but vampire's hands resting on his arse prevented such an action. Then he reached out for the wand in his pocket…

"Looking for something?" Harry did not like the smugness of the phrase.

He was right. He did not like what he saw either. His nice holly wand with a phoenix feather core was in the hands of the unstable maniac. Harry's eyes seemed to glue to the piece of wood. He was thrown off on the pavement and helplessly watched as it was snapped in two pieces.

Wave of pain and emptiness almost drowned him but the teen managed to stay conscious lying unmoving on the ground. Harry felt absolutely numb from the shock.

His body was rolled on the back.

"Hmm… What do we have here? No-no… You won't need those hideous glasses…"

Harry was deprived of his ancient glasses still unable to move. A crack manifested the mutilation of another his possession. Nothing that a good _Reparo_ won't fix, but he did not have the wand now either.

He was finally coming to his senses and the distant growling of his anger was slowly but unstoppably turning into a full-fledged blind fury. How dare this scum!..

"A scar? Hm-m… And what, pray tell, is the little savior doing here? On a visit to the Alleys? Not that it matters… Your blood is too rich to trade you."

'Well,' Harry thought, 'that would be the first time that I regret to not be treated according to my fame.'

"You know talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," the teen finally uttered.

"Aww! The full sentence without curses, you are already improving. Now, stay still, I want more of that blood of yours."

"No!" 'No way this sucker will get or break anything of mine again!'

The vampire who already was about to bit down the neck of his prey jerked upwards at the strength in the teen's voice.

Nobody will know what he saw in the green eyes when he tried to move away in terror. The boy just grabbed him by the collar and touched the bare skin of the vampire with the other hand.

"_Solaris_!"

The blinding light shot through Harry's palms and incinerated the man to ashes. For several moments the boy just stared at his hand in disbelief. Then smiled widely and booted the remaining clothes in satisfaction.

"Got what you deserved…"

* * *

The administrator at the reception was enjoying her so far most boring and lazy shift in a month. No check-ins, no check-outs, no new- or old-comers. The woman's head was slowly bending forwards and her eyelids closing.

"Could I reserve a room for two days?"

Sandra awoke in mere moments, as sharp and attentive as ever. That trait came with experience of her long night shifts.

A kid, fourteen or so years old. Messy hair and battered appearance. He did not look like he was able to pay, but she long time ago learned not to jump to conclusions. Appearances can be misleading.

The boy seemed to notice her scrutiny.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said and licked the dripping blood off his lower lip. "It seems London is not really safe to travel at night."

She just snorted at that comment.

"What room do you want?"

"Oh, nothing fancy. Just a one-person room with bathroom."

"Your ID?"

Harry was very glad that his mother was a muggleborn for he had perfectly legal documents proving his birth and existence, and, of course, passport which he gladly supplied after a long search in his trunk.

The woman seemed to be surprised about something. "You are older than I thought."

The teen scowled. "Yeah, right."

Sandra dropped the obviously painful topic. "We do have a spare room. That will be 30 pounds per night. How long will you stay?"

"At least tonight and tomorrow night as well."

"All right. 60 ponds then. Do you pay in cash or by credit card?"

"Cash."

The money was fished out of an ancient-looking wallet, and Sandra was pleased that she didn't mistreat a payable customer.

"Thank you. Here is your room key. Second floor, room number 25."

"And thank _you_. Have a good night."

Relieved that all went well Harry reached the door and cautiously opened it. After searching all the corners and finding nothing incriminating or suspicious, he locked the door _plus_ placed one of the two chairs under the doorknob. Only then the boy allowed himself to relax. Damn, he was getting paranoid. But who can blame him? He had a rough night. Besides, they say, you are not paranoid if they're out to get you.

His temporary residue looked for the lack of better word plain: a neat bed, two aforementioned chairs, a table, and a small wardrobe. But even that was better than his bedroom at Privet Drive, the furniture here at least looked new. And there was a bathroom!..

While soaking in the tube, Harry's mind ran over the things that happened. The loss of the wand made him magic-less though he had to look deeper into the whole "solaris" incident… Then there were his broken glasses that made him practically blind. New ones were certainly in order.

So the major plan for tomorrow was to buy glasses, change appearance by muggle means and visit Gringotts. Harry hoped that the famous goblin impartiality and neutral position in war were not a myth. Although he suspected that impartiality was based a great deal on genereous tips. Fortunately, he was not poor.

The teen dried with a fresh towel, put on boxers, set the alarm-clock and finally dropped on the bed. Having wrapped himself in the covers, he immediately drifted to the realm of dreams.

_- Edited: 6th May 2008_


	2. Changing Style

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Harry Potter and co.

**AN:** This chapter is shorter that the previous one, for which I apologize. The next one, I think will be on par with the first chapter word-count.

**Warning:** cross-dressing. Don't worry that won't become a theme throughout the story, just in the beginning.

* * *

**Chapter 2. Changing Style**

The morning arrived bright blue and shining through the curtains. Harry was wide awake half an hour earlier than planned. He felt strangely relaxed and calm, though the feeling was quite unexpected.

The teen meticulously brushed his teeth and washed his face with freezing water. There! Now he felt more alert.

He was somewhat surprised to find no remnants of the vampire bite or bruises on his throat. The teen mulled over the fact for a minute but shrugged it off.

Breakfast was an embarrassing affair. Harry decided to eat in the lobby's restaurant and the few people already up were giving him curious and uncomprehending glances. Disdainful even. Of course with the way he was dressed and his stumbling half-blindly to the table it could be understood. Nevertheless, the understanding did not prevent the red finding its way to his cheeks. Having being used to being stared at in the wizarding world Harry soon forgot about the surroundings (the absence of the glasses helped somewhat) and enjoyed the delivered food: bacon and eggs, and the hot strong black tea.

Back in the lobby the boy inquired about the nearest optics shop. Thank Merlin, it was just in several-minute walk from the hotel. Harry fished a worn-out rucksack out of the trunk and filled it with the most important things like Gringotts key, wallet, broken wand, the notebook, etc.

The teen arrived at the shop successfully and with a heavy blush. On his way he managed to collide with an easy-going girl who immediately felt sorry for him and guided him to the shop, all the road chatting non-stop and dubbing him an adorable kitty-kid. This was so not his morning!..

After the thorough inspection of his eye-sight and the long lecture about exercises for the better eyesight and the usage of lenses, Harry procured two pairs of the brown-coloured contacts and one transparent. The seller warned him that glasses will be ready only tomorrow, but with a sweet smile the teen offered to double the price for emergency. There is little money can't get you, so he was going to receive a nice new set of non-frame glasses just in two hours. Perfect, he would use the time to get rid of the disgusting hand-me-downs.

He clothed himself in the nearby department store and was for once looking like a typical teenager in sneakers, dark-blue jeans, goth black-red t-shirt and a cap. Harry thoroughly enjoyed himself buying different accessories like belts, sunglasses, a watch, a new wallet, Nike sport bag... He felt like a sugar deprived child in a candy-store and always had to restrain himself from going overboard. Although he had enough money, it vanished at a surprising speed, and he had yet to do something about his infamous nest of hair, which got a little longer over the spring and summer.

Harry paused thoughtfully at the cosmetics section and cautiously asked a teller of the means to hide a scar. He was forced to listen to a long-winded speech about all the types of concealers and their application. His in-bred politeness has to fight with the growing irritation. Finally he gave in and just asked to choose for him. Five minutes later he walked away, a proud owner of a foundation cream and face-powder, both quite expensive. Not that he knew of the make-up price range. Well, at least his scar was now barely noticeable.

Harry finally fetched his new glasses and after dragging the multitude of the acquired bags back to the hotel room left the Charing Cross Road in search of the hairdresser's parlor. Soon enough he was walking into it.

Fortunately, one of the hairdressers did not have clients at the moment.

"So, mate, what do you want to do with your hair?" asked the guy eyeing his mop critically. "Shave it maybe?"

"NO!" Harry cried indignantly.

"Relax, I'm joking. I have a cut in mind that will suit you. But… to make your hair more manageable I advice to dye it, just highlights, for example."

"D'you reckon you can dye the whole head dirty blonde?"

"Sure. It'll take some time though."

"That's ok… What haircut did you mention? Does it have a fringe?"

"Yes, it does. Why?"

Harry debated for a second if he should… Ahrgh, what's the difference! The guy will see his scar anyway. He moved the hair away from his forehead.

"You see, I have this scar, and it often makes people stare. If I had a bare forehead I would have to use the make-up stuff all the time to make it less pronounced."

"Ah! I see where you are coming from! Not a problem. Good that you told me though, I'll cut the fringe specifically to conceal it."

Chatting idly with Harry, the hairdresser proceeded to dye his inky black hair. That was how the teen found himself an hour later sitting on a couch and waiting for the dye to take effect, bored out of his mind. He tried looking through various magazines but nothing caught his attention. He regretted that he didn't take one of his school books with him. And writing in the notebook, which he used more as a planner, didn't appeal to him at the moment.

Harry was immensely relieved when half an hour later Chris the Hairdresser checked his hair and nodding approvingly washed the peroxide away. That is until the guy happily uttered:

"And now onto the real dyeing!"

"Eh?"

"What? Do you think you go from pitch black to blonde easily?"

So Chris was not joking when he said that it would take time. Harry just did not expect it to take that long. He just sighed resigned.

The teen was lounging on the same couch with a second batch of dye on his head reassuring himself that this stage won't be as long as the previous, when a new customer walked in. A nice-looking lady, dressed in a modest knee-length skirt and bright-blue summer blouse. Harry averted his gaze but in the mind he wondered what seemed so off about her.

"Hi there Jake! Or should I say Jacqueline?"

"How are you, Jessie?" the lady asked the hairdresser and took a sit on a nearby armchair.

"Fine, fine… Going to take part in the parade?"

"I think that's pretty obvious." She smiled. "I guess I'll leave the choice of the hairstyle to you today."

"I'll be with you in ten minutes. Gotta finish with the last client. So… Is this the outfit?"

"Yeah."

"Looks smart. If I did not know you I would mistake you for a woman. Planning on winning the best cross-dresser award this year, eh?" winked Jessy.

'Aha!' Harry thought triumphantly. 'So that is what was the wrong with her… him. Whatever. Actually… This can be a perfect disguise!'

The teen quickly shoved the offending idea to the back of his mind. But as the time passed, it kept crawling back. 'No way! If anybody were to know, I'd never live that down! The press would have field day for one. Though… what is better, potential public humiliation or being dragged back to Privet Drive or captured by Deatheaters?..'

Gathering his courage, Harry turned his head to see Jake? Jacqueline? flipping the pages of some fashion booklet. The teen bravely cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, sir? Ma'am?"

The laughing dark eyes rose to meet his uncertain ones.

"Just Jake."

"Jake…" Harry hesitated.

"Oh come on! Just spill it!"

"Can you give me some tips on how to dress to look like a girl?"

"Why?" Jake looked at Harry examining him with shrewd eyes.

"I... Just want to play a prank on my friend. He is coming by plane tomorrow morning…"

His stuttered explanation was mercilessly interrupted.

"So you also dye your hair and use coloured contacts to _just _to prank somebody?"

"How did you… Nevermind, you win, I just want to be… somebody else for a period of time."

"How old are you?"

"Going on sixteen."

"Uh-huh… Is that so important for you? Maybe it's better to just be yourself…"

"I will be myself. I just don't want to be recognized. And it's really important. Life or death situation," he confessed solemnly.

Jake clearly didn't believe him about the life or death situation mistaking it for teenage angst but acquiesced.

"R-right, first of all..."

* * *

When Harry returned to the Winston Hotel late that evening, he was totally exhausted and not a little traumatized. Plus his finances reduced in total by 800 pounds. He could not believe the amount of money he spent just in one day. That was some heavy shopping.

All he wanted to was to drop on the bed and sleep. But he had still to try out his disguise outfit and practice wearing it. He ordered strong double coffee through the phone and went over the notes.

_Eye-brow plucking – check. _

_Body hair… removal – check. _(He tried not to remember the process and dearly hoped he will abandon the eccentric disguise sooner than he has to go through this torture again. It was not as bad as Cruciatus but equally if not more humiliating. Thank god he was not the hairy type so the process didn't take long.)

_Manicure/pedicure – check._

_Make-up – bought._

_Earrings – on hiatus._ (He was not sure he wanted to go through this. It was kind of permanent.)

_Girl clothes – bought._

_Fake breasts –bought._ (Masquerade costume shop proved to be highly useful.)

Coffee arrived soon enough to shake Harry from his depressing thoughts. By the end of the day he thought he would never get rid of the blush staining his cheeks and ears. He didn't even know he could blush so colourfully until today.

The first attempt of doing make-up proved to be atrocious. He managed okay with lipstick but mascara and eyeliner were certainly of higher-level maintenance. Nevertheless, after half an hour of persistent attempts the teen sported a decent make-up.

Satisfied he tried on an ankle-length light-blue flowing summer skirt, white loose blouse, white jacket with black trimming and sandals on flat platform. No high heels. He was not _that _stupid as to think he would be able to walk in them.

He glanced in the full-length wardrobe mirror to evaluate the end-result. Well.. He certainly did not look like Harry Potter.

He saw actually a good-looking (that came as a surprise) girl with the short but stylish hair-cut that framed his face like a halo. Dirty-blonde matched nicely with the expressive brown eyes which due to the liner looked particularly large and almond-shaped. The girl was thin and slender, her figure a bit boyish but not in a bad sense.

Harry picked up a sport-style blue shoulder-bag and looked again.

Yes, this disguise would do for the time being. When he gets the tracking charms (and he had no doubt that there were some) off him and settles in new home, the whereabouts of which one had yet to be determined, he will happily revert to dressing according to his gender. The teen pitied what the girls had to go through, though most seemed to be content. Harry shuddered as he remembered Parvati and Lavender's clothes and fashion talk which he happened to overhear in the Common Room. Must be the difference in gender mentality.

Having got ready for bed he once again looked into his planner. One day till the Order will be aware of his absence. Nothing stops him, though, from sending the "I'm fine" letter tomorrow if Hedwig catches up in time. Sadly, this deception will not last long. Not with a close watch on the Dursleys' house. Hopefully, he'll use the time granted effectively and what Dumbledore and co think won't matter by then.

* * *

**Replying to reviews:**

**Karmah, angelkitty77, silverspun, Anave Lipad, Since When, ubetiburn, Toki Mirage** – Thank you for the endearing words! I'll try not to let you down and keep the story interesting.

**Since When: **I will be updating weekly or bi-weekly. As to the pairings… I am leaning towards HP/OC, but the fact is I haven't decided it yet myself, so I guess it will be surprise both for the readers and me.

**Ubetiburn:** I suppose this Harry will be bi. Scenes will be descriptive to at least R level rating. Possibly NC-17. No mpreg in the near future. The process will be possible in this story, though.

**Toki Mirage: **I cannot cut the shopping scenes out completely but I'll try to keep it short.


	3. Unravelling I

**Disclaimer:** Not my heroes and my world, obviously, barring new characters and scenery… Come on, obviously I'm not J.K.Rowling.

**AN:** My dear-dear readers, I'm terribly sorry for no update for such an atrocious amount of time. I had some personal problems and my attention was diverted. Now though I'm well back on track and I'll try to update bi-weekly at the maximum. This is the first part of the third chapter, and the second one will be ready in 3-5 days. Hope, you'll enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter 3. Unravelling I**

Hesitating for a second, Harry, or rather Luschia Schwarzberg entered the Leaky Cauldron. Some residents glanced up from their meal or drinks at an obviously muggleborn girl, who confidently strolled to the back wall of the inn, but paid her no mind.

Harry still remembered how Hagrid used the pieces of his broken wand and decided to follow the half-giant's example. The teen took his now carefully spell-o-taped wand out of the bag and tapped the right combination on the brick wall. In the usual cloud of dust bricks rearranged themselves and the relieved boy stepped through the passage.

The Diagon Alley was not as crowded as in the late weeks of August but the atmosphere was highly agitated. The people rushed back and forth, shoulders hunched and eyes sneaking glances for possible danger; the laughter sounded overly cheerful. Whispers about the upcoming war and the impeachment of Fudge followed him through the alley.

Upon entering the bank Harry went to the nearest goblin. Not even looking up the goblin grumbled:

"You are almost late, Mr. Potter."

Harry's eyes bugged out in unattractive display of surprise. He was only thankful that no one was near them to listen in.

"How did you..."

At this moment the tiny creature finally glanced at his customer. The poor goblin made a chocked noise and gaped.

"..know?" finished the boy uncertainly.

It was clear that the worker was trying hard to hide his amusement but a sharp chuckle, nevertheless, broke through.

"We use an Aura Detector to verify the inheritance candidates. We were uncertain if we managed to contact you. It is good you made it in time, Mr. Potter, otherwise in two days the Black House heir position would have been passed down to one Draco Malfoy."

"Alright, then… I must inform you that you did fail to contact me. I just happened to visit Gringotts today. And… Can we take this discussion somewhere less public perhaps?"

"Of course, I'll escort you to the Inheritance Level office. If you would, Mr. Potter, please, follow me,."

"Thank you, mister…"

The goblin raised his bushy eyebrows. "Just Ridgesow, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, Ridgesow."

The cart ride took much more time than he expected. There was some attraction in swoops and sharp turns in the beginning, but in the end even that became boring and nauseous. There is so much a human organism can take. When the cart came to an abrupt halt somewhere deep in the Earth layer, the teen eased his stiff arms from the hand-rail and all but fell onto the welcoming platform. Straightening himself subconsciously, Harry patiently awaited Ridgesow's further directions. The goblin swiftly climbed from the cart and motioned the boy to follow him.

In no time they arrived through several cave-like tunnels to a majestic black iron gate. It was as high as three harrys and as wide as two. Though not gigantic the getaway certainly looked impressive with all the crude carvings. The teen didn't have enough time to examine the ornament as the leaves opened, and he followed the goblin inside.

The vast room before him reminded him of a mixture between a library and a museum. Marble plates with runic script adorned dull gray granite walls, and stands with scrolls and heavy tomes almost reached the high ceiling. The air smelled of age, and several goblins working at randomly placed tables didn't seem to disrupt the sinister atmosphere.

Ridgesow, however, didn't give Harry time to properly gawk at the surroundings and strolled across the hall and into the archway, all the while commenting on the way.

"This is the Inheritance Level of Gringotts. Here we deal with family matters, such as adoption and disownment, inheritance rituals, will readings, and keep the track of magical family trees."

"I thought that Gringotts was just a bank. Doesn't the Ministry and lawyers handle it?"

"Ah, you would think that after living in the muggle world, wouldn't you? But no, this task was entrusted to us as to the Westley Treaty of 1207. We were already rather proficient in the topic and more reliable in comparison to human executors, so the Council made the establishment permanent and legal."

"The Council?"

"Yes, it mutated to the present-day Wizengamot. You must ask your advisor to recommend you some literature on the topic. It is not decent for the heir of two Houses to not know the Wizarding World History. As I see it now, your education is sorely lacking. I guess it is not your fault, considering, who is your magical guardian. A busy man, indeed…"

"Just who is it?" asked Harry who was becoming highly agitated.

"Why, Albus Dumbledore, of course. Your esteemed headmaster. I reckon you were not aware of this as well."

The teen laughed bitterly.

"Very true. He does not tell me much at all, especially things concerning myself. Do you, mayhaps, know who appointed him my guardian?"

"That would be the Wizengamot. A huge battle ensued over the post and finally it was decided that Mr. Dumbledore was the one with the necessary experience to guide you in the wizarding world. It was also believed that as the close acquaintance of your parents, he will keep your best interests at heart."

Harry frowned and his mood already not very stable relapsed into deep rage. "Moronsss. The whole bunch of thsssem," the teen's speech barely raised above the malicious hissing.

"You may be interested that as an heir to an Ancient and Noble House you can get emancipated at the age of 13. The Potter House is one of the few to carry that title," supplied Ridgesow graciously.

Harry smiled tightly gladly contemplating the option.

"We're here. Inheritance officer will see you in a moment."

After saying this, the goblin disappeared behind the iron door.

The teen was still stupefied from the onslaught of information and the realization, how much he was being duped by his manipulative elders, so he patiently remained standing, waiting for his guide to come back.

After five minutes he was let in. The goblin behind the red wood desk was the oldest goblin Harry has ever seen. He looked shrunken and ancient like an old dusty book but his tiny black eyes sparkled with intelligence and sharpness. The old bean was still tough.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter."

Harry gracelessly dropped on a wooden chair. And gathered his thoughts.

"Tell me about this inheritance thing…"

* * *

Harry listened to the will of the late Lord Black who left all his personal belongings and property to his only godson and trusted him to live on and share the fortune with those worthy. He also passed down to him the title of Lord Black and the accompanied estates, but there seemed to be a catch.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat that prevented him from crying and asked in a croaky voice:

"What ritual is he talking about?"

"An ancient one. Mr. Black wished to bestow upon you the title of the Head of the House of Black, which can be received only by those of the Black blood."

"So this ritual…" Harry urged the goblin.

"…Is one that adopts you to the family. However, the Blacks, being the blood purists they are, have a ritual is thatvery much unorthodox. Frankly speaking, it wasn't used even once since its creation. I must impress on you that it is highly dangerous and it is not granted that you will be accepted. The consequence of a failure is, of course, death."

"Nice, Sirius, real nice. Either you are trying to kill me, or have an insane faith in my abilities," muttered the teen under his breath. "And was Sirius aware of this little failure issue?" he directed the question to the goblin.

"I believe so. But he seemed certain that you will survive."

"Ever the cheerful bugger… Ah, what the heck!" Harry's eyes gained a determined glint. "Alright. What do I need to do?"

"First of all, you must go through the cleansing ritual to get rid of the traces of all the foreign magic performed on you. But before that any lasting charms on your person must be cancelled."

Harry inwardly cheered. It seemed he would be killing two birds with one stone.

"I'm afraid I may not be aware of what charms or spells may have been cast on me."

"That won't be a problem. I'll just have to call one of our curse-breaker's to resolve the issue."

"Very well."

The ancient goblin reached his hand to a device that looked suspiciously like a telephone. Probably, the differences were due to the modification for use in a magic-friendly environment.

"Gigglebreck, please, inform Mr. Weasley that he is needed in the inheritance office number two… Yes,.."

"Wait!" Harry cried out immediately.

"Gigglebreck, hang on just a second… What is it, Mr. Potter?"

"Don't you have any other curse-breakers? His family has close ties with Dumbledore and I'm afraid that…"

"That is not relevant, Mr. Potter," the goblin cut him off abruptly. "All our human employers sign a magical contract of non-disclosure so any information he will attain will remain confidential.

"Still…"

"Alright, let me see what I can do. Gigglebreck, are there any other curse-breakers available at the moment?.. Not anyone available in the next two weeks, you say? Hang on there… So, Mr. Potter, you have three options: agree to bear with Mr. Weasley's presense, hire an outside practitioner, or simply gave up the Black Inheritance to Draco Malfoy."

Perhaps, in another situation he would have just given up, but two key words made his choice obvious. At least, to him. Draco Malfoy. Harry would sooner die than pass Sirius' heritage down to the spoiled brat of hell. The fact that he was a relation didn't matter all that much in Harry's book.

"Very well. Call him up."

The goblin just smiled toothily at him. "Gigglebreck, do call up Mr. Weasley."

"So… Is there other things I must know about the ritual?"

"Plenty. But as the time is of essence you will be simply guided through the process."

"Just give me the outline."

"Alright. As I said before, the first step is canceling or breaking the spells on your person, the second is the cleansing ritual. You will be divested of your clothes and take a bath."

"That's the cleansing ritual? Doesn't it sound a bit symbolic?"

"The magic is in the runes carved on the basin and the minerals and herbs in the water."

"Thank you, continue, if you will."

The goblin pressed his already thin lips but went on with the description.

"The second step must be immediately followed by the third and final one. Which brings me to the question – are you a virgin?

Taken aback, Harry decided to twist the question. "No, I'm Leo actually."

The goblin didn't seem to be amused. "I'm well aware of that Mr.Potter. Let me put it another way, have you or have you not had an intercourse?"

"No, but what does it have to do with the ritual?" asked Harry warily.

"Number of the ingredients for the ritual are calculated according to the place, time of birth of both the candidate and his parents, which I already know, and the candidate's state of sexual activity.

"Very well," acknowledged Harry relaxing. "So what does the final ritual…"

The knock on the door interrupted the teen middle-question.

"Ah, this must be Mr. Weasley. Come in."

Bill entered and took in the surroundings. He had an air of duty and professionalism around him, which Harry never saw when he was with his family. Somewhat surprising, but understandable.

"Mr. Weasley, this is _Miss Luschia Schwarzberg_, she will soon take part in one of the inheritance rites and needs to get rid of any lasting charms on her person.

Bill didn't seem to pick up on the goblin's sarcasm and extended his hand in greeting. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Shwarzberg." Instead of a handshake Harry got a kiss on his hand, which mortified him to no end. Well, at least he was not blushing, just pale. "I will try to make the procedure as painless as possible."

Can a person get more pale than pale? Possibly. "Painless?"

"Well, it depends on the quantity and type of spells. Hopefully, you will feel nothing more than a slight itching." Bill smiled reassuringly.

Harry didn't share the curse-breaker's optimistic view.

"Ok, first we need to make a diagnosis, see what we are dealing with. Broggr Reklang, do you have the revealing paper?"

"Of course, I do, Bill. It is an inheritance office after all." Reklang handed him a roll of parchment paper."

"Thank you. Luschia, I'm afraid I have to take a drop of your blood. Will that be alright?"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, what was he? Four years old? He just moodily extended his hand. He was pretty sure the ruse would be up very soon.

Bill muttered a spell and a drop of blood from his middle finger was instantly absorbed by the parchment.

"Excellent. Please, stand up. Alright, now try not to move very much but follow the tip of the wand with your eyes." Harry nodded and obediently stared at the tip of a honey-coloured wand. Bill placed the scroll at Harry's feet and get down on his knees. He tapped the parchment with his wand and started enchanting in a language that was neither English nor Latin. The wand moved in intricate patterns, starting at the level of his feet and gradually coming upwards. Finally Bill stood and looked him in the eyes, while circling the wand in front of his face. The teen still following the instructions momentarily became cross-eyed. The next second a tingle ran down his body and Bill's voice faded into silence.

"You may sit down, Miss Schwarzberg," announced the man and Harry still a bit dazed flopped back on the chair. That was some complicated magic. He remembered how Professor Flitwick described enchantments. The technique should always be impeccable: every swish, flick and symbol made by the wand must coincide with a certain syllable, while all the time during the process magical energy is sapped from the core and intensity grows till the final note of an enchantment. And this one lasted roughly ten minutes. Goblins were certainly doing serious business. No slacking.

Meanwhile, Bill reached down for the scroll and gaped at the revealed content.

" 'Harry James Potter'… Harry?" Bill uncertainly glanced at the "girl". Reklang slipped into the background and seemed to be enjoying the unfolding scene.

"Sh-sh!" the teen whispered dramatically. "I'm hiding!"

"You are hiding…" the eldest Weasley looked him over once more.

"You don't like my disguise?" Harry decided that he won't be losing anything and pouted childishly.

"The disguise is definitely working," Bill suddenly grinned. "So, whom are you hiding from?"

"Well, there is the Order, then there is the Voldy dude and his Deathmunchers-let-them-choke-on-a-bone… Oh! And the general public as well. But of course, you won't tell anybody, will you?" the teen smiled slyly.

Bill's grin didn't diminish. "Wouldn't dream of it! Alright, let's not pry into your life at the moment. Back to business."


	4. Unravelling II

**AN:** So here we go again. The real life just fucks with timing. A am sorry I did not post as soon as I pormised. But now is the first opportunity I am able to do it. Hope, you'll enjoy this part.

* * *

**Previously:**

_"The disguise is definitely working," Bill suddenly grinned_

"_The disguise is definitely working," Bill suddenly grinned. "So, whom are you hiding from?"_

"_Well, there is the Order, then there is the Voldy dude and his Deathmunchers-let-them-choke-on-a-bone… Oh! And the general public as well. But of course, you won't tell anybody, will you?" the teen smiled slyly._

_Bill's grin didn't diminish. "Wouldn't dream of it! Alright, let's not pry into your life at the moment. Back to business."_

* * *

The man turned his eyes back to the parchment and whistled. "You have quite a collection of charms placed on you, Harry. Let's move in the chronological order… The first spell, placed on you, was the standard child magical suppressor. Date, August 13th, 1980."

"What's that?" Harry questioned immediately.

"That's a mild block placed on children with an above average magical core to lessen the destructive effects of accidental magic, so that a baby doesn't harm itself. It's usually taken off at the age range from seven to twelve years maximum, which in your case didn't happen, though, it's mostly worn out on its own. It'll be no problem to clear the remnants. Furthermore… Huh… You have six seals placed on your magic," Bill lifted his eyes from the scroll and gazed at the teen in mild shock and pity. Judging by his expression, Broggr Reklang shared his employee's sentiments.

Harry's eyes grew apprehensively wide - something was wrong, very wrong.

"What does it mean?"

"That you are less than you are supposed to be," Bill answered in a soothing tone. "You're not suffering from the effects only because they were placed on you in infancy and you got used to live without your other magical abilities."

The teen swallowed. The information hit him hard.

"So…" he started but lost the words on the way.

"So the one who placed the seals on you left you only with the affinity to light magic and, curiously enough, Parseltongue magic."

"Why would they do that?"

Bill sighed and tugged his fang earring absent-mindedly. "Perhaps, you promised to grow up too powerful and they decided to prevent any potential threat in such a manner."

"Voldemort?"

"I seriously doubt that. First of all, from what I hear, it's not exactly his area of expertise. Secondly, the seals were put on you in February, 1981, and it is nigh on impossible to construct such a charm in a disembodied state."

"So, is this permanent?" Harry asked with dread.

Bill mulled the question over in his head adding further to the young wizard's anxiety. "No," he finally answered. "Just very, very hard to remove."

"How long will it take?"

"A month at the least."

Harry threw a nervous glance at the ancient goblin. The latter seemed to be in deep contemplation. Silence stretched across the office, making the teen uncomfortable and desperate for interruption. Bill finally decided to provide one and coughed, immediately drawing the attention of the other two occupants of the room.

"Moving on… You have several tracking charms placed on you during your lifetime. That is basically all, except that there are also some remaining tendrils of several unidentifiable spells, which your magic is currently dissolving. They should completely deteriorate in about two weeks."

Harry sighed and raked his hand through the dyed hair.

"Then… the adoption ritual is cancelled, I suppose?.."

Reklang finally came out of his musings and looked at the teen with the previously missing intensity.

"Not necessarily. I have a proposition for you, Mr. Potter. Gringotts through its dealings with the DoM has procured several timeturners, and one of them can send people up to three months back, so we can send you and Bill back in time to remove the seals. During that period you'll have to stay enclosed in the Gringotts guestrooms to prevent any time diversions."

"Why would you go to all that trouble?" Harry asked suspiciously. Goblins were not famous for their generosity. They were shrewd and tough businessmen. "What do you get out of this deal?"

"You are, of course, right, Mr. Potter, there is a but. In exchange for this little favour, you'll have to sign a magical contract that you won't withdraw your monetary accounts from Gringotts with the purpose of storing them in some other location, i.e. safehouse, another bank, etc. Of course, all expenses and investments are exempt."

"Hm-m… That is a rather peculiar condition. Could you tell me if you have subsidiaries abroad as well as muggle ones?"

"Naturally, we do. Gringotts subsidiaries are situated in over a hundred countries, and each bank is branched out in the muggle world. You need not worry about the access also. We offer credit cards and checks for the use in the muggle environment, and our rather recent development – a portable vault – in the wizarding areas. PV is a pouch that is directly connected to the vault of your choice. It's supplied with over a dozen security charms and identity detectors. Moreover, for an amount over 1,000 galleons the pouch will withdraw a drop of your blood to check you for mind control substances."

Harry was still slightly suspicious.

"I am not against the proposition. I wasn't actually planning on withdrawing the funds, but can you answer why you would want to ensure that I remain your client?"

"You see, Mr. Potter, many people tend to withdraw the funds during the wartimes and we are currently on the edge of the beginning of a civil war. You obviously don't know the full amount of your inheritance, but combined with the Black one, it is an impressive number. If you decide to pull out the moneys it, of course, will not bankrupt us, but will create a considerable hole in the banking system. And I know for a fact, that if the Malfoys received the Black House property then they would not only withdraw their own funds but also the newly acquired ones."

"But why?"

"We never agreed to side with either side in the first war with Voldemort. I imagine he would target our bank to prove the point that there is no neutrality in the war."

"Doesn't that scare you?" Harry observed as the goblin's smile turned feral.

"We were once a warrior nation, Mr. Potter, and we still have our traditions left. If the current Dark Lord wants to fight – let him. We will have something up our sleeve to surprise him."

Harry smiled serenely and contently.

"You know, I am even looking forward to that confrontation. I have an utmost belief in the Gringotts defense capabilities. So… the contract?"

"I'll have to draw it, Mr. Potter. You'll have a day to prepare for your stay in Gringotts. We will, of course, provide food and cleansing services, but you'll still have one and half month of stay, so take with you anything you need to occupy your time."

Harry's mind was now working in overdrive. He sharply turned to Bill:

"Hey, Bill, do you mind giving me a crash-course in Runes and Arithmancy?"

"I guess I could do that, I wouldn't want to die of boredom during the enclosure."

"Do I bore you?" Harry pretended to be hurt.

"No, but you may," answered the redhead grinning.

"Whatever. So a day, huh? Guess I better get started."

" That you do, but you may want the tracking charms to be removed at once, just in case," advised Broggr Reklang.

"Do it."

"Impatient, are we?" teased Bill.

"You try living under constant surveillance."

"You managed so far."

"Yeah, but not spectacularly. Oh, by the way, do you know where I can get an untraceable illegal wand?"

"You must practice your subtlety, Mr. Potter," laughed the goblin. "But I think, I can advise you of several enterprises."

"That was not meant to be subtle, Broggr Reklang. I really do need a new wand. But I don't really want to buy one from that creep Ollivander."

"Why do you need a new wand? There are actually ways to remove the tracking system from your primary wand."

Harry embarrassedly looked at the plain gray wall, trying not to meet other's eyes.

"It's kind of broken."

"Broken?" Bill looked surprised. "You know it's not a small feat to break a wand, it's rather resilient. Especially your own."

"It was not me who broke it, alright."

"Then who was it?" insisted Bill. "That is quite an offence, you can easily sue them."

"Doesn't matter now. He will not do it again."

"Mr. Potter, what is said in this office, remains confidential, even if you confess to committing arson, murder, treachery and so on," coaxed the goblin.

"Why do you need to know?"

"Mostly, we are just curious."

"I guess, it couldn't hurt. It was self-defense on my part, really. I had an altercation in London – stumbled across some rouge vampire who tried to drink my blood and make me his pet or something. I tried to run, without success, then when I tried to use a wand he broke it, and then… I guess accidental magic kicked in, I got angry and incinerated the fucker."

Bill and the goblin just stared.

"Only you…" muttered the curse-breaker in an amused tone. "You do know that accidental magic stops appearing in children when they get their wand?"

"Really? But… But my wand was just broken… And it never really did disappear," Harry sighed. "There were several incidents of me using accidental magic. What does it mean?"

"Well," Bill looked to be a little disturbed, "it could have happened because the seals imbalanced your magic, or your wand wasn't well suited for you. Or you could simply just be that strong and in need of learning mind and magic control. I am quite certain it is the latter, but it can actually be a mixture of the whole three. I suppose I'll also try to give you a crash-course on control during our enclosure. Because when we remove the seals your magical core will be chaotic for some time and you need to have at least some control management to keep it in check."

The goblin nodded emphatically in agreement.

"Very well," Harry agreed immediately and decided that he would have a panic attack later. "Let's get stated then. The tracking charms, please?"

"My pleasure," grinned Bill though it was clear he was still a bit apprehensive.

After another ten minutes of enchanting and drawing some runes on Harry's forehead, the tracking spells were broken. The teen's whole being felt refreshed from the wave of cool soothing magic that enveloped him at the end of an enchantment. Bill explained that the tracking spells were feeding off his magic, and now that the strain was cancelled, he will feel a bit hyperenergetic for a day or two. Harry just giggled stupidly in answer to that, proving the point, and tried to slap himself.

"How am I going to operate in such a state?" Harry whined. "I feel light-headed and drunk because of this extra energy."

"You could try to use my wand and cast something. It will help in the short-term to get rid of the accumulated magic."

"All right, give it to me, please,please,please…" the goblin was watching the hyper Harry with amusement.

Bill sighed. "Here you go." The teen reached for the wand and took it reverently in his hands. "Start with Wingardium Leviosa."

"You gotta be kidding me. That's dull. Teach me something new."

"You couldn't do it."

"I bet I could. I can do anything."

"Sure you do…" Bill smiled skeptically. "Well, I guess, I know one spell. At least you'll do away with the extra energy. Listen carefully, the incantation is Metallum Soloveni. Try to picture a band of gold in your mind – you can even close your eyes to better concentrate. And you move the wand in a circular motion with a flick rightwards. Yes, that's right. Try to do it."

Harry closed his eyes and imagined the sparkling golden ring. Warmth filled his hand that was holding an unfamiliar wand. He raised the wand and circled the ring flicking the wand rightwards in the end. The words spilled from his lips involuntarily. The teen felt the drain of magic but immediately knew that he failed.

"Wait! I want to try it one more time." He exclaimed exited and even no opening the eyes.

He heard Bill sigh exasperatedly: "Sure, knock yourself out."

Once more… The ring, the gold, the sun enveloping air and sparkling off the metal surface, filling it with inner surreal light… And flick!..

* * *

"Harry! Come on, Harry, wake up, you miserable extremist!"

Slap.

'Ouch that hurt,' thought the teen through the white fog.

Slap.

"Stop it."

"Then stop lazing around on a dusty floor and get up. You do know, that when I said to knock yourself out, I didn't mean it literally."

Harry opened one eye and groaned. "I guess. Well, at least I am not hyper anymore," he deduced carefully sitting up. "So, how did I do? I did manage the last time, didn't I?"

"Not exactly, you were supposed to conjure the leprechaun gold. That is a Master Transfiguration level. So I didn't think you'll succeed."

"But did I? Show me!"

"You did conjure something," Bill helped him to stand up and led to the table where Broggr Reklang was engrossed in the studying of a sparkly ring.

"I may be wrong, but that does not look like gold," stated Harry. The band was made of a material that distantly resembled quartz that was filled with dancing sunlight rays.

"It is not," agreed the goblin. "You are certainly full of surprises, Mr. Potter. What you conjured is a much more rare metal. It is not produced nowadays, and its conjuration secret was lost to the wizarding world about three thousand years ago when the grithleams, the sun-worshipping nation, were wiped out."

"What it's called then?"

"Fleyan."

"Strange."

"It is. I think we'll know more when the seals are removed."

Harry grimaced. "I hope so. This is confusing the hell out of me. I may need to read some literature on the topic. I guess, I will take my leave now."

"Mr. Weasley, would you be so kind as to help our lady with procuring a wand and other equipment? It may not be safe for Miss Schwarzberg to venture alone into the Knockturn Alley."

"Sure."

"I expect you both to come to Gringotts before noon. Diran Ridgesow will then show you the way to the guest quarters. The contract and timeturner will be ready by then."

"Thank you, Broggr Reklang. It's being a pleasure to do business with you. I hope our further interactions will bring us both wealth and fortune."

"Nice, if crude saying, Mr. Potter. May the gold and power flow to you as well."

"Till tomorrow."

"Till tomorrow. Though it will be one and half month for you."

* * *

The door closed behind the two wizards and the goblin manager sighed heavily wondering if it was wise to get involved with the Boy-Who-Lived affairs. Well, it is said, that the risks pay. He just hoped he made a right choice.


End file.
